


Readbeard

by AngelaChristian



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Asexual Sherlock, Coming Out, Drama, M/M, Oral Sex, Sibling Incest, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 06:54:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2419235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelaChristian/pseuds/AngelaChristian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>teaser in work<br/>....oh come on Sherlock, what do you have to lose?...your life has been and will be a mess,was I wrong about the East Wind,that one day the card house oft lies will be blown apart?....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Readbeard

Header  
Title : Redbeard  
Fandom : Sherlock BBC  
Rating: 18  
Genre: slash, drama, taboo, holmcest  
Pairings : Sherlock/John, Sherlock/Mycroft, Mycroft/Lestarde  
Disclaimer : Sherlock Holmes etc. belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyal and the BBC, I don’t make money with this.  
Note : Story set during the episode “His last vow”  
Teaser : “Oh come on Sherlock, what do you have to lose ? Your life has been and will be a mess. Was I wrong about the East Wind, that one day the whole card house of lies will be blown apart ?” 

 

Redbeard  
Late at night Mycroft was at his office when the phone rang. He took the unexpected call and pushed the record-button of a small device connected to the phone.  
“Yes ?”  
“Mycroft Holmes, still working at that late hour ?” said a familiar voice.  
Mycroft recognized the caller at once and froze in his chair.  
The voice sniggered. “Don’t say a word and give me the information that I want, otherwise the whole world will find out how close you and your dear brother Sherlock really are, dirty you…” The phone clicked.  
Mycroft felt his blood go to his feet and swallowed hard. How could he know ? Or didn’t he know anything at all and was just bluffing , waiting for his reaction ? Did he have evidence to proof his horrific accusation ? What was his source of information ? Gossip ? Rumors ? Unlikely. Observation ? Yes, maybe, but still unlikely. He had to contact Sherlock at once, because he was in danger as well ,but this time it was more serious than his occasional drug abuse that he was informed about or the wannabe criminals he usually dealt with. He had to warn him and ask him for help, which would be the more difficult part.  
Mycroft remembered interrogating Moriarty at Baskerville. This must be the connection, but how could that bastard know ? He was so careful with the information about Sherlock, that he gave to him, but nevertheless he must have noticed something. He had to visit his brother.  
The following morning at Bakerstreet  
Seeing John again at their former shared apartment brought back memories about old times. But that old John from a life that felt like centuries ago, was gone. Sherlock had to get used to him living with Marry, but didn’t want to. John belonged to him, not her. He didn’t trust women, they weren’t good for John, especially not that one. John never forgave him for jumping of the building and making him believe that he was dead. Why was he so stubborn, after all ? Mycroft, his parents and even Mrs. Hudson could handle it much better than him. He was back now, so what ? Nothing had changed. By the way, he had reasons to be mad at John for going on as if nothing had happened, moving away, getting married without asking for his permission, neglecting their work and cases…and now it was Mycroft who needed his help, although he didn’t say a word, but told him to not get involved , which was supposed to mean the opposite. He’d rather bite of his tongue than ask him for help.  
John was babbling something about dinner with Mary and Janine.  
“I think Magnusson is threatening Mycroft.” He blandly deduced but didn’t say it aloud.  
But which of his many secrets escaped from the closet ? His brother was so decent that he kept even his vices in alphabetic order . His odd preference for Dominatrixes ? No. His affair with Inspector Lestrade ? Didn’t half of London already know about it ? His eating disorder ? Well, if the roman emperors did it, it was also good enough for his brother. Torturing Moriarty ? Lame, who wouldn’t do that ? Or was it his best kept secret ,which could ruin his political career as well as his reputation ? that must be the answer. Again, he didn’t understand why people made such a fuzz about it, but to Mycroft’s position it was a treat and an affair worth to be blackmailed about; immoral and illegal at the same time. That particular event involved both of them and Sherlock didn’t want John to learn about it, he wouldn’t take it well, like he couldn’t take his return from the death. But he had to be sure. Their next case was waiting.  
“Magnusson owns a newspaper , right ? Do you think he would print anything insulting about your brother like…ehm..Mycroft shagges sheep in order to damage his reputation ?  
“Mycroft grew out of that years ago …” Sherlock said absentminded.  
“Well, then…”  
Later that night, Sherlock was laying awake in his bed thinking about himself and Mycroft.  
He hadn’t thought about it for many years, but meeting John brought back the memories about what happened between him and Mycroft. Sure it wasn’t allowed and most of all their parents mustn’t find out, but why was it wrong ? It was an experiment, nothing more, he had a need and Mycroft took care of it. John was the only man who had the slightest change to be worth his attention and make him forget his brother, at least for a moment.  
Christmas at the Holmes’ family house  
Sherlock and Mycroft were standing in front of the house while secretly smoking and having a conversation.  
“It’s Magnusson, who’s after you, right ?”  
“Right. He wants me to give him access to secret information, otherwise he’ll ruin my career.”  
“Is it about us ?”  
“Again, yes. Redbeard is still more than sentimental memories about the past away family dog, it’s the code word for that event in the past. The curious must die and never talk.”  
“I know about you and Inspector Lestrade, so obvious how you seem to be ignoring and avoiding each other.” Sherlock stated.  
“Not less obvious than your feelings for John Watson. You can’t hide that from me.” Mycroft said with disdain.  
“Jealous ?” he teased.  
“Because of John ? oh, not at all.”  
“How did Magnusson find out ?”  
“He must have deduction skills as well.”  
“But we never let it show in front of other people.” Sherlock said dryly.  
“Look, I don’t care about ordinary people with their ordinary ideas about moral or right and wrong, but yet those narrow-minded people’s judgement about our actions is threatening my career .”  
“For somebody that oblivious you follow their rules perfectly.”  
“Unlike you, little brother, I try to get along without getting into trouble with the rest of the world by being discrete.”  
“ I see how it worked…But what about me ? I’m guilty as well.”  
“Oh come on Sherlock, what do you have to lose ? Your life has been and will be a mess. Was I wrong about the East Wind, that one day the whole card house of lies will be blown apart ?”  
“Magnusson is right, I am a treat to your career, so being the unworthy, I will take care of it this time.”  
“Did John notice anything ?”  
“No, I think he still hates you for not telling him that I was alive.”  
“Good.”  
Sherlock hugged Mycroft, standing close enough to each other to hide the forbidden kiss.  
After finishing his cigarette, Sherlock followed Mycroft back into the house. He went upstairs to his former room, which was now one of the guestrooms. His parents had packed away his old things, like toys that he never played with or children’s books he never liked to read or old books from the university, so the boards above the bed were empty, now. No evidence of the crime that happened on Christmas many years ago was left at the crime scene. Plain white walls, a desk, a wardrobe and a bed with fresh sheets. He remembered coming home from University to stay with his parents and Mycroft over the Christmas holidays.  
Many years ago….  
Sherlock sat at his desk, studying for his coming exam, when Mycroft entered the room.  
“Ah, still the hard working student.” He teased.  
Sherlock sighed. “It is frustrating to see all that rubbish that the professors wrote down in here, I really have to point out their mistakes to them when I’m back otherwise mankind will never evolve…”  
“Since when do you care about the wellbeing of other people ?”  
“I don’t , brother, but the more stupid they are, the more annoying they will become .”  
“I see, the ghosts of Christmas missed you one more time.”  
“Apropos missing, what happened to the girl that you brought home to last year’s Christmas dinner ? You know, the one that you payed for pretending to be your girlfriend ?”  
“Sherlock !!!” Mycroft seemed shocked.  
“You may fool our parents about your non existing romantic relationships, but not me.”  
“I’m too busy for that, like I told them, but wanted them to stop worrying. You should try that as well. Now they start to think that you, not me, might be ..ehm…”  
“Gay.”  
“Well, yes, your are twenty five and never showed any interested in women at all, not even during your teenage years, our parents thought you were a late starter in that area, although you started reading at the age of three and were early at anything else.”  
“Just like you, brother.”  
“Like I told you, I’m too busy.”  
“So am I.” He rose his book over his face and went on reading.  
“Sherlock !” Mycroft reached for the book, took it out of his hand and put it on the desk. “Are you interested in women or in men ?”  
“Neither. I don’t care about people at all, no matter of their sex, gender, age or ethnics. To me, they are all the same ; boring, annoying, useless.”  
“At least, you’re not into children…” Mycroft looked genuinely relived.  
“Pardon ?”  
“Never mind. But were you never curious about sex ?”  
“You mean putting my penis into some woman’s vagina ?”  
“For example…”  
“Boring.” In this point, Mycroft did agree, he preferred being beaten and insulted by women, but Sherlock mustn’t know and wouldn’t understand.  
“How could you know, if you have never tried ?”  
“It sounds boring. But now that you aren’t a virgin anymore, tell me what it is like.”  
“Ehm, you know the technical facts about the birds and bees and the lots of internet porn, but what it feels like is something that you have to experience by yourself. I can’t and won’t tell you.”  
“ I must have missed that lessons.”  
“But you could find a call girl in London or …, dear, I can’t believe that my brother is still as naïve as a small boy, a virgin at this age… ”  
“And I can’t believe that my brother is a closet gay, who works for the secret service and puts his nose into other people’s businesses , but do I make so much of a fuzz about it ?”  
Mycroft huffed, turned around and banged the door shut. So far for now, but he had a plan.  
Hours of boring Christmas dinner past and Sherlock wasn’t curious about his presents, he knew that his mother bought them shirts, socks and ties like ever year. He left the table and went upstairs, soon after reaching his room, Mycroft knocked at the door.  
“Come in.”  
He entered the room, holding a newspaper, the London Times, neatly folded under his arm.  
“Isn’t it a little late for politics ?”  
Without saying a word, Mycroft opened the newspaper and presented two magazines, which were wrapped up in there. Sherlock looked at the titles; one had naked women on its cover, the other one seemed to be the same thing with half naked men. First he took the version with the women and quickly turned the pages. Tits, tits, pussy, pussy….slim women, curvy women, young ones, older ones…just boring. Then he reached for the other magazine, the same in blue, old ones, young ones, muscular and slim ones and lots of cocks in all shapes and sizes, so many …  
Mycroft coughed silently. “Maybe I should go and leave you on our own with that one.” He kept his eyes down in order to avoid looking at Sherlock’s crotch or more precisely the bulge that had appeared.  
Sherlock noticed his staring at the floor and the reason for it. “Oh ? anything wrong ?” He lowered the magazine in an attempt to cover his lap.  
“I think that…” he pointed at Sherlock’s trousers “answers our questions about your sexual orientation.”  
“Now, I’d like to know about you.” He stepped forward and held the open magazine in front of Mycroft’s face, then turned the pages. He blocked his way, so his brother got caught between the wardrobe and his own body. Their bodies touched. “Oh, Sherlock, don’t do that…” But he didn’t listen, instead he turned Mycroft’s head and kissed him, first on the cheek than on his lips. His brother closed his eyes, hesitated but didn’t turn away. Their lips met again and the kiss deepened. Sherlock felt Mycroft’s hands moving over his butt, while he pushed his hips against his crotch. He could feel that his brother was hard, too. Gasping for air , they broke the kiss.  
“I want more.” Sherlock purred in his seductive low voice. Mycroft hugged him tighter while pushing harder against his hips. Then he took Sherlock’s hand and put it on his zipper, but it seemed that he had no idea what to do with it, so Mycroft put his own hand on Sherlock’s and started with soft rubbing.  
“Just do with me what you would do with yourself,” he whispered.  
“I do nothing with myself…?”  
“God, Sherlock, I don’t understand you.” He put his other hand on Sherlock’s zipper and squeezed him softly through the fabric. Sherlock mimicked the movements. For the first time in many years, he couldn’t remember the last time that he felt that way, this made him want more. Mycroft shouldn’t stop that, never…he sight. He felt him rubbing harder, which made his breath go faster and faster.  
“Sit down on the bed.” Mycroft said, trying to breath slowly. Sherlock seemed to be ready for the next step. Without further hesitation, he opened his brother’s trousers, pulled his pants down and kneeled down in front of him.  
Sherlock didn’t expect to feel his tongue, one more surprise, but couldn’t think about it anymore, the sensations were to overwhelming. He closed his eyes and bit his lips to suppress his moaning. He grabbed the blanked with his hands and pushed it hard.  
Sherlock was about to explode and moments later, he felt the hot liquid running down into his throat. Mycroft didn’t bat an eye or flinch, got up from the floor and sat down on the bed next to him.  
Sherlock panted : “Ok, now it is my turn.”  
“Ehm , if you don’t feel ready for this, just touch me.”  
At that point, his memory ended, which was unusual but he couldn’t remember what he did next or whether he did anything at all. Those were the only sexual ones that he had, if he ignored his only night with John, who told him afterwards that he couldn’t imagine to repeat such things again, because he realized how much he preferred women, when it came to sex. Silly John might have even thought that he jumped of the roof, because he was heartbroken after he told him. But now, his brother needed his help concerning Magnusson.

The end


End file.
